Tear Down the Walls
by creativeminds1896
Summary: A year before Thomas runs the Maze, a new Greenie arrives. But it's a girl in the Box, not a guy. Convinced she wasn't a mistake, Anne struggles to become a part of the Gladers' community. Once she does, she moves up in the ranks of the Gladers, angering many and earning the respect of others, all while under the eye of the second-in-command. Before and during first book. Newt/OC
1. Blank

Chapter 1: Blank

* * *

She was afraid.

That was the way she found herself. In the dark. Alone and afraid.

She was holding her head in both her hands, her knees aching as if she had, just a moment before, fallen hard on them. Her head pounded; almost rhythmic enough to sound like her own heartbeat.

She felt the area she was in begin to slide up. The ground shook and the girl trembled. Why was she in this cold place? Why was it pitch black? Was this a prison? Had she done something wrong?

She tried to think of an explanation; something, anything from her past…but there was nothing but blank space in her head. She thought as hard as she could. Who were her parents? Did she have any brothers or sisters? Any pets? Extended family?

Then her eyes flew open as another thought crossed her hurting mind.

 _My name…I don't even know my own name…_

She began to feel queasy. Her breathing became shallow, her lungs begging for more oxygen than she could inhale at once. She braced herself against the shaking floor, hoping that she wouldn't lose her lunch (if she had eaten it, that is).

She attempted to rid herself of the panic, trying to think of anything else other than her fear and the lack of memories she seemed to possess.

Still trembling, not only from terror, but also from an upset stomach, she slowly got to her feet. Whatever she was in—an elevator possibly?—was steady enough for her to stand without falling. She put her hand out in front of her and crept forward, hoping to run into a wall of sorts. Fortunately, her hand hit the freezing, chain link metal siding. She pressed against it, testing its durability. Thankfully, it wasn't flimsy, and she leaned into the corner of the wall.

 _Anne._

She almost gasped in shock as one simple, short name popped into her head. Was that her name? Anne?

She tested it out.

"Anne…Anne… _Anne,"_ the girl whispered.

She felt her features scrunch into a frown. The name felt foreign on her tongue. The aftertaste of it was like poison. She knew it was wrong. It even _sounded_ wrong when she said it. But somehow, she knew it was her name.

She began to panic again, knowing that Anne wasn't her real name.

Instead of sinking down against the chain-link wall, she decided to walk around the moving room she was in. Was she alone? She hadn't heard any other movement, but if it was a large area, she would have heard it by now.

She put her right hand on the fence side and stuck the other out in front of her. She shuffled forward, blind as she could ever be. It was so dark, if she had waved a hand in front of her face, she wouldn't have seen it.

She scuffled down the wall slowly for about thirty seconds before she hit another corner and turned, keeping her right hand against the side.

A couple seconds into walking against that wall, her knees hit something rough and solid. She lurched into the object slightly, both hands on it to balance herself out. Pain shot through her head, making the drumbeat even faster. She moved her hands over it, finding that it was a wooden box of sorts. She moved her way left, feeling that it was more than one box, it was several. Some were large, some were small.

The pile of boxes extended all the way to the next wall.

 _A cargo hold?_ She thought anxiously. _But why the heck am I in a cargo hold?_

She racked her brain again, hoping for some sort of elucidation for this whole ordeal, but found nothing of the sort. Instead, she found the single word again. Anne.

She found her way into the next corner over. She leant up against the walls, knowing that she couldn't push her memory problem away. She wanted to remember. She _needed_ to remember.

She tried to think of a life before this darkness, but nothing surfaced. Nothing of parents or siblings. Nothing of a house or neighborhood or even friends. Nothing. And that worried her. The weight of it seemed to push against her chest, making her lungs constrict.

But she knew that she had to remember something. So she kept on, digging deep into her mind. But again, she found nothing but air. Blank. Not even a faint, fuzzy picture of herself. She didn't even know what she looked like.

Her stomach began to bubble unpleasantly. The pain in her head and the pressure in her chest made her stomach feel even sicker. She knew that she would upchuck soon, and she certainly didn't want it to happen in this pitch black cargo holder.

Tears began to slowly stream down her face.

This was torture. Absolute torture. And there was no way for her to end it.

Suddenly, a faint recognition of something raced across her concentration. An aunt. She had had an aunt.

But didn't everyone have aunts and uncles? Why was an aunt sticking out to her? Had she taken care of her? But what had happened to her other family? Were they dead?

The cargo holder screeched to a halt, throwing the girl off-balance. She collided with a piece of cargo in front of her. Spikes of pain shot through her hands, as if a thousand small needles had pierced the flesh all at once. Her knees burned.

Then the roof began to open.

She scrambled back to sit up against the corner, hugging her knees to her chest.

Light broke through into the space, and the girl covered her eyes for protection. It hurt to look at anything.

Then, there were voices.

"Who's the Greenie this month?"

"Hope he's strong. We need more Builders."

She struggled to open her eyes and look up in the direction of the voices. She managed to block out some of the light with her hands as she glanced up at the cargo. It was as she suspected – wooden boxes possibly full of supplies.

The voices began to grow louder with each statement, as if in wonder.

"Shank's a girl!"

"I call dibs!"

"What do you mean it's a shuck girl?"

"I mean it's a shuck girl, you klunk!"

"Hey! Quiet down!"

The girl's eyes finally adjusted to the light and she finally looked up. Staring down at her was a bunch of teenage boys. They were grimy and sweaty, dressed in dull, earthy colors. Some looked around seventeen or eighteen and others as young as fourteen.

 _Anne,_ she thought quickly. _My name is Anne. I should probably start getting used to the name. I should say it…or say something…_

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her eyes just widened at the faces gazing, puzzled, down at her.

An older, dark-skinned boy knelt down and held out a calloused hand.

"You're planning on getting out of the Box sometime soon, yeah?" he asked.

Anne merely nodded, too timid to say anything around these other boys.

"Well, come on, then, we ain't got all day," he said, more harsh than before.

She pulled herself to her feet and brushed her hands on her legs, finding that she was wearing blue jeans. Her hands stung afterwards. She glanced down at her hands to see several long splinters protruding from her fingers and several small cuts and scratches.

Ignoring that, she slowly made her way over to the dark-skinned boy. She took his hand and he lifted her up, using the boxes as steps.

As soon as she was out of the box, her stomach rolled and churned even worse than before.

 _How do I know of the sea, but not my own past?_ she thought bitterly.

She pushed through the crowd, feeling the acid in her belly begin to start its journey up and out. She toppled forward onto the patchy grass, landing hard on her hands and knees. A few of the guys laughed at the action, a few gasping.

Then, in front of them all, she puked. It didn't feel great, but it was almost relieving to Anne. Her stomach had been feeling gross since she…became conscious.

The guys cheered and guffawed loudly as she threw up the last bit of sick left. She sat back on her knees, disgusted by the smell of the sick, and wiped away the tears that had been squeezed out of her eyes during it all.

She scoot off to the side of it and sat cross-legged on a patch of brown, dry grass. The sharp blades poked through her jeans, but she didn't care. She was just glad to have finally rid her stomach of its contents. Her body felt better, but her mind was still troubled.

The boys had begun to form a circle around her. She could hear the fervent hiss of whispering break through the group.

The dark-skinned one who helped lift her from that cargo hold before stepped towards her. Those in the front of the circle did the same.

This began to scare her a little. She curled her legs in closer to her body, wanting to shield herself from their insistent stares. It did not work, obviously, as it seemed she was the only female in a crowd of around twenty males.

"Back up, ya shanks!" yelled the dark-skinned boy.

They did as the boy told them to. However, the whispering didn't stop.

"Name's Alby," the boy introduced. "What's yours?"

Anne was intimidated by the boy at first. He was, as it seemed, the leader of the group. She was too exhausted, too frightened, and too overwhelmed to answer, so she shrugged.

"Don't remember? That's okay. Lots of us couldn't remember ours when we first came up out of the Box, either. It'll come soon, I promise," Alby reassured her.

Anne's head began to ache again. Her shaking hands reached up to grab her temples.

"Shuck it…" uttered Alby. "Med-jacks! Greenie needs some treatment!"

Two boys came quickly out of the group and stood in front of Anne.

"Think she fell against our supply boxes on her way here. Patch her up, will ya?"

Anne did not hear the reply, as the pain in her head became almost unbearable. She squeaked in pain and shut her eyes, the light making it even worse.

"Come on, Greenie, gotta stand if you want to get some pain relievers," she heard Alby tell her.

Her eyes flew open to see Alby's hand held out in front of her once again.

She shook her head and, shakily, stood by herself. Her vision swam as she attempted to find her balance again. The two boys called 'Med-jacks' each grabbed an arm.

"Whoa, whoa," said the one on her left. "We've got you."

"Take her to the Med-jack, building, Clint," Alby ordered. "We'll show the Greenbean around when she's feeling up to it."

"Sir, yes sir," she heard the boy on her left joke.

"Clint," warned Alby.

"Geez, we're going, we're going," Clint said quickly.

The two Med-jacks basically dragged Anne away from the group of confused but excited boys.

"I-I can't remember anything," Anne muttered through the pain, barely audible.

"That's okay," Clint told her. "We can't either."

The dark spots in Anne's vision grew until they swallowed her whole. She was in darkness once again.

Alone.

In pain.

Afraid.

* * *

 **I hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter of my first Maze Runner fanfiction! I really enjoyed writing it and I can't wait for you all to read more! If you do want to read more, please favorite, follow, and review. I want to know if you guys would like me to continue. :) Thanks so much for reading!**


	2. Alone

Chapter 2: Alone

* * *

Anne awoke in what looked like a shack. Sunlight streamed in through the gap in the faded checkered curtains, hitting her square in the eye.

 _Again with the bright lights,_ she thought, annoyed.

"Hey, Clint, she's up!" said a voice to her right.

Anne's head snapped to the side, where she saw a tall, skinny boy with a buzz cut sitting on a chair in the opposite corner of the room.

She immediately felt like sinking into the rickety mattress and disappearing forever. All she wanted to do was be alone, but she figured that it wouldn't happen anytime soon. She heard the comments the other guys made when that cargo hold opened. She knew that the leaders would most likely want to make sure she was protected. That is…if the leaders were okay with her staying…wherever the heck she was.

A shorter boy with black curly hair jogged into the room, seemingly eager to talk to me.

"Hey, you're awake! How're you feeling?" he asked, a smile on his face.

Anne realized that she hadn't even thought about her health yet. She had just woken up, for goodness sake. She sat up slowly.

She touched her stomach, realizing that it had calmed immensely since her incident earlier. Sensing something sticky on her hands, she glanced down to see several band aids plastered over the cuts and scratches that she obtained when she crashed into the boxes. Her head wasn't pounding. Her knees were sore, but other than that, just fine.

She cleared her throat and spoke quietly. "Much better, thank you."

Clint squinted, holding a hand to his ear. "What did ya say?"

"She said, 'better, thanks,'" Jeff clarified.

Clint nodded in understanding, then his eyes went wide. "Oh, hey, go get Newt or Alby!"

"Which one?" questioned Jeff.

"I don't know, you shank, whichever one is closest to the building!" Clint chuckled.

Jeff left without a word.

"Oh, hey, I didn't notice those blood stains before. Want me to clean them for you? Infection is not something you wanna live with here."

Anne, confused, looked down her legs to see Clint was right. The knees of her jeans were, in fact, decorated with a few splotches of crimson. She nodded, and he began to gather the materials he would need.

Anne rolled up the legs of her jeans with ease.

Once Clint had everything he needed, he brought the chair Jeff had been sitting in up to side of the bed. He unscrewed the lid of a bottle filled with clear liquid. He dabbed it onto a clump of cotton.

"Just warning you, this is going to sting a little," he cautioned.

Anne nodded. She figured that this would be nothing compared to the pain she had dealt with earlier.

He pressed the cotton one of her knees and he was right, it did sting, but Anne did not react. This was nothing compared to what she had suffered before. Child's play.

"Nice going, Greenie," said Clint, clearly a bit impressed. "I know shanks here who would squeal if this stuff got in their cuts." He held up the bottle in his free hand.

Anne narrowed her eyes, as if to ask, _what is that?_

Clint seemed to understand, so he said, "hydrogen peroxide."

Anne nodded again, recognizing the name. She knew she had had it used on her before, but she knew not when.

She could feel her frustration with herself growing. Why couldn't she remember things like her aunt's face or name but could remember things like grass, band aids, and hydrogen peroxide? What was going on with her mind? And why was she so shy? Why couldn't she just say what she wanted to say when she wanted to say it?

Just as Clint was bandaging up the first knee, two people entered the building. Jeff came through the doorway first, followed by a tall, lanky guy with short, sandy blonde hair. His brown eyes were curious, scanning her up and down.

To Anne, it wasn't creepy, his eyes looking her all over. He was observing; as if she was a school science experiment and he wanted to know how it worked. He wanted to know more about her.

But he also had a certain obscurity in his eyes, like lantern slowly dying out from strong winds. It was sad to look in his eyes, so she didn't.

The boy leaned up against the wall across from her, arms crossed and face neutral.

"Hey, Newt," Clint greeted.

"Clint," nodded Newt.

Anne's eyebrows raised slightly. Oh. She knew that accent. She had heard it before. It was…British? She was 90% sure that's what it was, but wasn't completely convinced. She wanted to hear him speak more.

"How long has she been up?" he inquired of Clint.

"About five minutes now," the boy answered. "You can ask her yourself."

Newt turned towards Anne. "What's your name?"

Anne seemed unable to make eye contact with the boy. She smoothed down the bandage over her left knee.

"Anne," she replied softly, voice scratchy.

"Nice to meet you, Anne. I'm Newt, second in command here," he said kindly.

Anne's eyes flickered up to meet his briefly. "Where is here?"

"I forgot," Newt chuckled slightly, "you weren't exactly introduced to our lovely community, were you? Other shanks were all over you, they were. Alby told 'em to give you some space, so don't worry about them."

 _You didn't answer my question,_ she thought grumpily. _Where am I?_

As Clint began to clean off her other knee, she attempted to see out the gap in the curtains.

"I'll show you where you are just as soon as Clint finishes up," Newt told her. "Easier seen than bloody explained."

Anne just felt perplexed. What was so complicated about their location that he couldn't just tell her then?

She shook it off and focused on a spot on the worn blanket she was sitting on. Was it blood? Was it water? Who knew. She wondered how long these boys had been here for. That spot certainly looked old.

Clint finished off the bandage and grinned like the Cheshire cat. "There you go, Greenie."

"What's a Greenie?" Anne heard herself ask quietly.

"Just a name for the newbies. Full name is Greenbean, but Greenie is easier to say," he explained.

Anne nodded once and rolled down her pant legs.

"Ready to get out of this hut, Greenie?" Newt questioned. He waved a hand towards the doorway. "Come on. I'll get you settled into the homestead. It's almost dinner time."

Anne stood quickly, finding it easier to balance now that she wasn't about to puke or faint. She turned to Clint and Jeff.

"Thanks," she told them softly.

"No problem, Greenie," said Clint.

"See you at dinner!" Jeff told her cheerfully.

Anne managed a half-smile and turned to follow Newt out of the building.

He turned the corner of the small building and put his hand on the doorknob, not yet turning it.

"Where we live might be a bit shocking. So don't go collapsing on me, okay, Greenie?" said Newt, raising one eyebrow at her.

She nodded and stuck her hands in her pockets.

"Good that," he commented, turning the squeaky knob and letting in the fresh air.

The first thing Anne saw was a prosperous garden. There were several other boys tending to the plants. Many seemed to be working hard pulling weeds, pruning plants, and picking fruit off of a bundle of trees she assumed was an orchard.

But then she saw what was past the garden. She took off its mask and saw what she was really in.

The walls stretched up towards a sky a bit too blue for Anne's taste. The hot sun beat down on the gray cement hung with ivy. Large openings gave way to dark, dismal corridors that lead to who knows where.

Anne spun quickly to see that the walls surrounding the entire area. She was boxed in. And there was no way out except for those corridors. She certainly didn't want to step foot in there.

"Hey, hey, you good, Greenie?" asked Newt, concerned.

Anne barely heard him. She just kept spinning, drinking it all in. And she hated it. She hated the walls. She hated that garden. She hated that stupid medical shack she had just left. She hated those stupid boys who called dibs on her and laughed at her sickness. She hated those two guys, Clint and Jeff, who had taken it on themselves to pick her up when she fell. She hated Newt, who was just standing there, waiting for her to say something. And most of all, she hated herself, for not knowing who she was, where she had come from, and the fact that she was so afraid of everything. She wanted to be strong, but she didn't know how.

Several fresh tears suddenly ran down her cheeks, and Anne quickly brushed them away. She knew she should wait to break until she was alone.

Newt seemed to act like it didn't happen, which Anne appreciated, yet screamed in inside. She wanted comfort, but she also didn't want it out here, in front of everything and everyone.

"Follow me," he said. "We'll explain everything tomorrow. It's too late to give you a tour now. Sun'll be setting soon and all these bloody shucks gotta stop busting their behinds sometime. You hungry?"

Anne shook her head. Despite feeling better, her appetite had not yet returned.

"You will be once you get a whiff of Frypan's cooking," he told her.

They began to walk west, towards a haphazardly built house.

Little did Anne notice, every single worker in the garden stopped and stared as she passed. Many were curious about this newbie, especially because it was a girl.

Newt, on the other hand, definitely noticed. He sent several glares the boys' way and quickened his pace.

Anne kept up quite easily, as she found out quickly. She glanced down to see that she had very long legs. Maybe that was the reason she had fallen so much in the cargo hold.

About halfway to the house, Newt spoke up.

"That there's the Box," he informed her. "Every week we get more supplies and every month, we get a new Greenbean. That's you this month, Anne."

"Do they all come up with wiped memories?" Anne whispered, piping up the courage to ask.

"Every single bloody one of us," confirmed Newt crossly. "Nothin' in our brains except our names and general knowledge like what a cow is or how to brush our teeth."

Anne did not respond, which she found was a normal response for her.

 _If we all come up from the Box with our memories blank,_ she thought, _then why are we here? What's the point?_

As they approached the house, a few voices echoed from the middle of the field.

"How's it going, girl?"

"We've gotta sweet set-up downstairs if you ever want to visit!"

"Whoo! That Greenie is fine!"

Newt just groaned and yelled back, "Slim it, shuck-faces!" He clenched his fists and threw open the front door of the house.

"Just ignore them, Greenie," he muttered, teeth gritted in frustration.

Anne thought that she should be a bit worried about the boys that cat-called, but she wasn't. From what she had heard from Newt and from how he had reacted, the leader, Alby, and him seemed to have understood that she should be carefully protected from those types of guys here.

Newt led Anne through several rooms and up a flight of narrow stairs. He walked all the way to the end of the upstairs hall and unlocked a door at the very end. It creaked slightly as it opened.

"This will be your room. You're bloody lucky, too. Lots of shanks have tried to claim it as their own. That's why it's always locked," he explained.

Anne entered to see a modest, single bed covered in blankets with a fluffy, but worn-looking pillow resting at the headboard. There was nothing else in there but the bed.

She sat down on the mattress, testing it out.

"Creators sent in some clothes for you," said Newt. "Should be brought here to the Homestead soon."

"Is that what this house is called?" wondered Anne.

"Yeah, it's the Homestead."

There was silence for a moment as the two looked around the room awkwardly.

"Thank you," said Anne gratefully. "You didn't have to be so kind, but you were."

It was at that statement that Newt almost smiled. It was a first in a long time.

Anne shyly smiled back, despite her current emotional state (which was all over the place at this point).

"This room locks from the inside, too, so you can be safe at night or whenever you want to be alone," Newt continued, the smile from his eyes suddenly lost in darkness.

She nodded, happy with the news. Being alone was important to Anne. She didn't know much about herself, but one thing she was sure of was her need to be alone after being around so many people.

Anne got up from the bed and trudged over to the small, curtained window on the right side of the room. The window's view was almost sadly beautiful. Her room's window faced a forest of dried out trees.

 _Maybe at one point it thrived, but it looks like it hasn't rained in at least a year,_ she thought, feeling melancholy.

"I can come get you for dinner later, Greenie," Newt offered.

Anne, feeling tears start to leak from her eyes, didn't turn away from the window. She nodded and he immediately was gone. His footsteps echoed up from the staircase at the end of the hall.

She closed the door softly, almost relishing in the slow screech the hinges made. It sounded sad. Like her.

She turned the lock and tested it, just to be certain it worked. Newt was right. She could be alone.

Anne turned and slid down against the door, eyes already hot and blurry. She curled up with her knees pressed against her chest and she cried.

No matter if she could remember or not, she knew it was the hardest she had cried in a very long time.

* * *

 **Hi guys! I know, that was a bit of a depressing end, but I really wanted you to understand how Anne was feeling at this point. You know, she's in a place full of hormonal teenage boys, she can't remember anything, she was in a ton of pain earlier that day, etc…But Newt came into the story! Yay! He's one of my absolute favorite characters in this trilogy.**

 **I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! I struggled a little with Newt's portrayal, but I think that's just because he's a bit different than the one you meet with Thomas. There's a reason for that, trust me! But if you ever have any criticism on Alby or another major character's portrayal, please let me know (kindly) in the reviews! I want to be accurate with their personality and behaviors.**

 **Again, thanks so much for reading** _ **Tear Down the Walls!**_ **It really means a lot to me.**

 **Don't forget to review, follow, and favorite! :)**


	3. Discovery

Chapter 3: Discovery

* * *

Anne didn't know how long she stayed in her new room for, but seemed like eternity. Her eyes were still a bit damp when she heard a quiet rap on her door.

"Anne? It's Newt," he said, voice muffled. "You up for dinner?"

Anne wasn't sure. Then her stomach rumbled loudly. A hand flew to her belly. Now she was sure.

"I'll take that as a yes," Newt said, sounded amused.

She dried her eyes on the back of her hand and stood slowly. Her head ached again, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

She took a deep breath, readying herself for the comments that might be thrown her way during the meal. However, she knew as long as she stuck with Newt or even Clint or Jeff, she'd be okay.

She ran a hand through her hair, which she found was not as easy as she originally thought it would be. She hadn't even taken into account what her hair was like.

She grabbed a thick strand and stared at it for a moment. It was a nice, warm color.

 _I think it could be labeled as honey brown,_ she thought.

It was mid-chest length, thick, and wavy. Anne liked the look of it. It was almost comforting to recognize a part of herself that was still present, even if her mind wasn't.

"Uh…Greenie? You still there?"

Anne hurried to the door, sheepish that she forgot Newt was standing right outside of it.

She opened it, and there he was, sad eyes, sandy hair, and all. He gave her a half-smile.

"Follow me."

So she did.

He led her out of the Homestead and to the small building just south of it.

Then, seemingly out of the blue, the ground began to quake. Anne would have almost toppled over if it wasn't for Newt grasping onto her forearm.

Suddenly, a loud grinding and crunching noise echoed all around, bouncing around the cement walls and flooding each crevice of the space with the horrible sounds.

Anne was shocked, yet petrified. She just stood there, Newt's hand still clasped to her arm, and watched as the large doors of the corridors began to slide shut. Her eyes widened as several boys sprinted down the South corridor and, barely in time, slipped through the crack in between the almost-closed doors. She breathed a sigh of relief on their behalf. They would have gotten very, very squished if they hadn't skidded through in time.

The doors finally slammed shut with a loud _BOOM!_

Newt let go of Anne, who was still standing there in astonishment.

"Wh-where on earth am I?" she managed to stammer.

"Welcome to the Glade," Newt said grimly.

Anne just frowned. What was 'the Glade' and why was she there? Would nobody tell her anything important? Anything vital so that she could actually survive?

She felt all the questions eating up her insides as Newt continued on towards the building.

"Who were those boys coming from the…whatever's out there?" she questioned, finally finding some confidence to speak up.

"You're a curious Greenie, aren't you? Well, don't get your britches in a bundle. Alby'll give you a tour tomorrow and he'll explain everything," replied Newt, sensing frustration steaming off of the girl.

As they approached the building, Anne saw groups of boys sitting out on the grass with plates full of food. A few stopped mid-bite and stared, eyes wide. Others just smirked and looked her up and down. And some, to her dismay, started laughing and mimicked puking over their plates.

Anne ignored them all. She kept her eyes trained on the back of Newt's head, who she followed into the building.

Inside was a small dining room filled with about five or six tables and, in the back of it all, a functional kitchen where one dark-skinned boy served up the food.

Newt walked straight past all the tables, Anne hot on his heels. More stares floated in Anne's direction, but all that was on her mind was food.

"How you doing, Newt? This the Greenie?" greeted the boy cheerfully.

"Anne, this is Frypan," Newt introduced. "He's the Keeper of the Cooks."

Frypan gave her a winning smile. "Nice to meet you, Greenie. Dinner?" He held out a plate stuffed with green beans, fried tomatoes, and a large piece of chicken.

Anne's eyes widened as she graciously accepted the food. "Thank you."

"Looking forward to having you help me out soon," he said.

Anne just nodded, confused as to why she would be helping him out anytime soon.

Newt took a plate from Frypan, thanked him, and turned to Anne. "Well, aren't you going to sit down somewhere?"

Anne's eyes darted around the room anxiously. Where was she supposed to sit? Was there anywhere to sit?

"Do you want to sit with me?" asked Newt, embarrassed at the fact that she was new and didn't know anybody there except him and Clint and Jeff.

Anne nodded as she grabbed a knife, fork, and a napkin off the counter.

Newt sat down in the middle of the table full of other boys. None of them gawked rudely at Anne or made cat calls about her body, which she greatly appreciated.

Newt made the boy on his left shift down towards the end of the bench so that she had room to sit. She didn't make eye contact with anyone except new as she sat down.

"Nice to see ya up and about, Greenie," said a voice across from her. It was Alby.

She nodded and dug into her green beans, trying not to focus on anything but the food in front of her.

"Anne," said Newt. She looked up, wondering what he had to say. "This is Minho." He pointed at a buff, Asian-looking guy next to Alby.

"Didn't realize the new Greenie was a girl," Minho said. "At least things will be interesting again."

"And that's Gally on the other side."

The boy looked a bit younger than Alby and Minho, with strangely arched eyebrows and a solemn mouth. Despite his appearance, he smiled. "Welcome to the Glade."

"And beside me is Will," continued Newt.

"Greenie," Will said shortly, leaning around Newt to meet Anne's eye. His hair was shaggy and a dark brown. He barely made eye contact before turning back to his food.

"Just ignore Will. He's a downright black rain cloud, he is," laughed the boy to my right, nudging me with his elbow. "I'm Adam. Don't worry, I'll help ya out around here."

There was a slightly cocky nature about him Anne found amusing, so she smiled back.

"It's, um, nice to meet you all," she told them quietly.

"Gotta speak up, Greenie," Minho replied. "You're gonna have to get use to rowdy shanks that aren't gonna want to ask you something twice."

"He's right," nodded Adam. "So, no memories, huh?"

Anne looked up from cutting her chicken. She shook her head.

"Nothin' in the old cranium at all?"

She shook her head again.

"Well, when I first came up out of the Box, these shanks pestered me for over an hour. Thought I was talkin' klunk. I was seriously considering throwing myself off the top of the Homestead," Adam said matter-of-factly.

"Slim it, Adam," Alby cut in, disbelieving. "That's complete klunk and you know it."

"Is not! You can ask Skinner!" The bright blonde turned to a buff ginger guy at the table next to theirs. "Hey, Skinner! When I first came up out of the Box, I talked to you about chucking myself off the Homestead, didn't I?"

Skinner scoffed. "No you didn't! You talked about chucking Alby off the top, remember?"

Everyone at Anne's table laughed and jostled Adam jokingly. Well, everyone except Newt. Anne noticed that Newt wasn't as in tune to jokes as the other guys. But she didn't think it was a lack of a sense of humor. He seemed distant, almost isolated from his friends, and they didn't even notice.

Anne didn't talk much during dinner, except to answer any questions that the boys asked. She found herself contemplating her age at one point.

"How old do I look?" she wondered.

"Maybe sixteen?" Will suggested, observing her face.

"Mm, she looks a bit older than that," Minho chimed in.

"She ain't sixteen," Alby replied. "Seventeen at the most."

"Definitely seventeen," Adam agreed. "What do you think, Newt?"

Newt glanced once at Anne, then back to his forkful of tomato. "Seventeen."

Anne nodded. Out of everything that seemed wrong with that day, that assumption was the only thing that seemed somewhat accurate. "That seems correct to me."

The rest of the time, Anne kept quiet. She wasn't used to all the boisterous conversations and relentless energy the boys seemed to possess.

By the end of dinner, she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to her room and crash.

"Newt we've got a Runner's meeting," Minho said as he stood up with his plate.

Newt glanced once at Anne, then back to Minho. "I was going to get Anne back to her room."

"I can do that," Adam volunteered. "It's no problem."

Anne was somewhat disappointed to not have Newt with her, but was glad Adam volunteered. He had a nice youthfulness about him, no matter what the situation was. And she enjoyed his sense of humor, as it cheered her up immensely.

"C'mon, Greenie," Adam beckoned.

Newt and Minho left the kitchens quickly, as if urgent matters awaited them.

"What was that meeting Newt and Minho had to attend?" Anne fired up the courage to ask Adam as they left the dining room.

"I'm technically not supposed to tell Newbies anything before the tour, but that unwritten rule is stupid, so I'll tell you anyways," Adam said. "Newt and Minho are Runners. They scout out sections of the Maze."

Anne stopped in her tracks. The Maze? Is that what that dark corridor led to? Where they in the middle of the whole thing?

"We're in a freaking Maze?" she gasped, almost unable to fully grasp the concept.

Adam skidded to a stop and spun in his heel, looking worried. "I think you mean 'shucking Maze,' but yes, we're the heart of it all. The Glade and the Gladers, aka, all of us slintheads that were, for some reason, stuck here."

Anne fiddled with her fingernails, something she found was a frequent habit of hers whenever she was irritated.

"And we were all just…shoved up that elevator into all this?" she questioned.

"Yep. Glorious isn't it?" Adam said sarcastically.

"Hey, Greenie!"

Adam and Anne whirled around to see a tall boy with jet black hair and thick eyebrows approaching them.

Anne immediately didn't like him. He wore a mischievous smirk, as if he had a naughty joke he was constantly laughing at inside his head.

"Pretty little thing up close, aren't you?" he snarked, looking Anne up and down.

Anne crossed her arms self-consciously. This was one of the boys that had yelled at her when they were entering the Homestead. She could recognize his face from a mile away if she had to. It was squished, as if somebody had put their hands on either side of his face and pushed with as much force as they possibly could. His nose jutted out like a shark's dorsal fin, pointy and domineering. It was not a face Anne looked forward to seeing around the Glade.

"Leave the Greenie alone, Max," Adam spoke up, anger lacing his words.

"That was a shucking funny entrance you made," Max continued mockingly, ignoring Adam's protests. "Never thought a girl would walk this Glade. Especially not after coming out of the Box like that."

Adam put a hand on Anne's shoulder and began to lead her back to the Homestead. Anne was glad. She was intimidated by this Glader. He was the tallest she had seen here and obviously didn't like her already.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to ya, Greenie!" he shouted after them.

Adam kept his hand on Anne's shoulder even up to the front porch of the Homestead.

"Whatever you do, stay away from Max," he told her firmly. "He hasn't been the same since the Changing."

Anne narrowed her eyes at the phrase.

 _The Changing?_ _Whatever it is, I really don't want it to happen to me,_ she thought. _But what is it?_

"I know, I know," Adam groaned, reading her expression. "More questions I can't answer. But tomorrow, they will. Now where's your room? Gotta make sure no shanks have tried to sniff the blankets you've sat on. Don't give me that look! I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't tried to break into your room by now."

* * *

Sleep came easily to Anne, despite her uneasiness about her whereabouts. She did not dream, or she did, but she didn't remember when she woke up to a pounding on her door the next morning.

"Rise and shine, Greenie! Time for the grand tour!"

She exhaled. It was Alby.

She threw the blankets off her, stood, and slipped on the white sneakers she arrived in. Then, realized, she needed to use the bathroom.

She opened the door and said, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall, last door to the right," replied Alby. "But hurry! We gotta get goin' with the tour."

Anne nodded and hurried to where Alby had directed her. As she entered, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She jumped slightly. Who else was in there?

It was her. The movement was herself. There was a mirror in the bathroom.

Anne gazed at her reflection for a moment, wide-eyed. She hadn't even seen what she looked like yet. It was a familiar face that stared back at her, which was nice. Whoever had sent her here had taken away everything by erasing her memories. But it was nice to recognize something else about herself.

Every feature, though strange to see, was just what Anne was expecting. She had very wavy, almost curly long, honey brownish-blonde hair and medium-thick eyebrows that were slightly darker than her hair. Her mouth was of a good size, not too large, not too small. Her lips weren't thin, but they weren't full, either. It was a fine in between. Her nose, as she observed, was a bit bigger than Anne would have liked. It was narrowed like an arrowhead at the end and was wide. Her ears were small, but the sheer thickness of her hair made up for their size. Her eyes were a big and a bright, bright green, like fresh summer grass with golden flecks. And she was _covered_ in freckles. She almost laughed. There were freckles literally everywhere, which she hadn't really noticed before.

She smiled at her reflection and carried on with her business. At least she was familiar with her appearance.

* * *

"We've got three simple rules here in the Glade," Alby said as he showed Anne out of the Homestead. "One, everyone does their part. No slackers allowed. Two, never hurt another Glader. We gotta trust each other out here. And three, never go outside of the Glade unless you're a Runner."

Anne nodded. She could remember. Easy.

"And knowing Adam, I assume that the shank told ya about the Maze last night," said Alby, unamused.

Anne nodded again. "Yeah."

"'Course he did, the shuck-face."

"What is 'shank' and 'shuck-face?' Slang terms of some sort, but what do they mean?" she inquired.

"Shank is just a term we use for idiots. Shuck can be used several ways. You can do stuff like 'shuck-face' or 'it's a shucking cow' kinda thing," Alby explained.

Anne nodded in understanding. She could deal with that.

"Across from us are the Deadheads, which is just our patch of forest. Further into it is the graveyard."

She was taken aback for a moment. "Graveyard?"

"Yeah, we got one of those. Had a few shanks die here, but not for a few months now," Alby replied.

"How many?" Anne asked solemnly.

"About eight or nine," Alby replied. "But over here is the Blood House. It's where the Slicers work."

They approached a small animal farm, filled with pigs, goats, chickens, and other livestock. In the very corner was dark, vile looking shack. The coppery smell wafted out of the chimney and out into the open air. Anne coughed, disgusted by the smell.

Then, a dog jumped over a small fence and came barreling towards them. It was, as Anne recognized, a black Lab. The Lab started circling their legs, panting and wagging its tail.

Anne knelt to pet the dog, who immediately started licking her face and hands and turning all around so that she could scratch his back and head.

"Bark seems to like ya," Alby chuckled. "But he likes most shanks."

"Why is he named Bark?"

Alby chuckled again. "Never barks."

Anne smiled a little. She had discovered something new about herself: she liked dogs.

"He'll follow us around. Sort of lives here. Always been here, actually," said Alby. "But this is where we keep the livestock. Chickens give us eggs, we eat the chickens, goats and cows give us milk, we eat them, and all that klunk. Winston is the Keeper. Runs this whole shebang. Keepers are the heads of each job and form the Council."

"And the Blood House is where they…slaughter the animals?" Anne guessed.

Alby studied her for a moment, as if mystified by her. "You're smart, Greenie."

Anne shrugged and leaned over the fence to pat a goat's head. It bleated loudly.

"Won't take you into the Blood House. You'll see for yourself once it's your turn to work there," Alby told her. "Each Greenie works one day in each position, except Runner. Just to see where ya fit in best. Good that?"

Anne merely blinked. She was going to have to work in the Blood House. Eek. She wasn't sure if she was sickened by the sight of blood or not, but it wasn't something that she wanted to see.

"Movin' on then," Alby said, pointing towards the garden area.

Bark followed them north, up past what Anne learned was the Med-jack building where Clint and Jeff had cared for her just the day before.

 _Seems like a long time ago,_ thought Anne. _I've discovered so much about this place since then._

"Hi there, Greenie!" yelled Jeff as he walked out of the Med-jack building.

Anne waved shyly and continued on to the gardens.

"This here's the Gardens. Track-Hoes are the ones who keep this place going. They grow most of our food that gets transferred over to the Cooks, who throw together actual meals for us," Alby said, gesturing to the small fields full of corn, wheat, and stalks of who knows what else.

Several of the Gladers pause from their tasks and stare in Anne's direction. Apparently, they still weren't used to the idea of having a girl around.

A few start whispering to each other, smirking. Others just get back to their work.

"Zart," greets Alby. "This is the new Greenie, Anne."

Zart, a tall, bleach blonde kid with close-cropped hair put a hand up to say hello.

As Alby and Anne strode away from the Gardens, Anne's stomach growled.

"I'll take you to the kitchen. Frypan might have something left over from breakfast for ya to munch on," Alby commented. "I've gotta go see what the Builders are doing. Can you get back on your own?"

Anne, stomach fluttering a little at the idea of walking back alone, nodded, but she was unsure of how safe she would feel.

"Good that," he said. And before Anne could object, he marched off to go deal with the Builders. Anne assumed that the builders repaired any buildings and build new ones when the Glade need them, the dog, Bark, close at his heels.

She sighed, turned in the direction of the kitchens, and was on her way.

She noticed that the doors were open once again.

 _Guess they open much more quietly than they close,_ she thought. _Must have slept through it._

The Glade, from what Anne had observed, was a well-functioning, self-reliant community. It was impressive, that's for sure, especially since it was run by all boys. They seemed to have had to grow up fast, which saddened Anne a bit.

 _But then again, I'm already having to grow up fast, now that I'm here,_ she thought.

"Hey! What's shakin', Greenie?"

Anne looked up in alarm, only to relax as she saw Adam jogging towards her from the direction of the Gardens.

"Hi," she said.

"How was the tour?"

Anne shrugged. "Kind of short."

"Alby didn't get to all the jobs, did he?"

"I don't know. How many are there?"

Adam's eyebrows raised. "Well, there's the Track-Hoes, which includes me. Med-Jacks, who are kind of our doctors. We got the Cooks, Builders—they build stuff, wouldn't you know it—and shanks like Baggers, who are shady as shuck; are like our police and are in charge of the Slammer, kinda like a jail. They also take care of dead shanks, but that hasn't happened in a few months. Bricknicks work pretty closely with the Builders, 'cause they repair whatever the Builders shuck up. Slicers work in the Blood House. That place is klunk, trust me. But it's kinda fun to work with the animals. You're probably gonna hate your time there. And then we got Sloppers. They're the bottom of the barrel, cleaning up whatever messes we make. Like the toilets for instance. Runners are pretty cool. They try to figure out that mess of a Maze out there."

Anne stared down at her feet as she tromped through the grassy meadows as she listened to Adam's descriptions of each job.

After a minute, Anne asked, "What does Newt do?"

"Newt? He's Keeper of the Runners," Adam said. "He's a brave shank, he is."

Anne's eyebrows shot up. Runner, huh? That was cool.

"Why'd you wanna know?"

She glanced up quickly. "I was just wondering. He was nice to me."

"Don't get used to it, Greenie," Adam scoffed.

"Why not?" Anne questioned, frowning slightly.

"He's been gettin' worse by the day. Keeps separating himself from his friends. Alby's starting to get worried. So am I. I've been here since the beginning, helped out Newt when he came up out of the Box. First one up, actually, after the rest of us woke up here on our backs, no memories," Adam relayed, staring off into the Maze.

"Hey! ADAM! Get back here, you shuck-face!"

Anne and Adam turned quickly to face the Gardens, Zart leaning on a rake as he screamed.

"Ugh, Zart the Fart beckons," Adam groaned. "See you at lunch, Greenie."

And then he was gone.

Anne was alone again. And that intimidated her a little. But she kept on towards the kitchens, hoping that Frypan had saved her something from breakfast.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading this chapter! It was a bit longer than usual, since I wanted to fit in the tour and that conversation with Adam at the end.**

 **Now that I'm heading back to university tomorrow, I won't be able to post nearly as much. There might even be as much as a month or two break between postings. And I'm sorry I can't post more, but it's hard to write when I'm busy with school, work, and my a capella competition coming up.**

 **But what did you think of this chapter? Tell me in the reviews! :) And for some reason, only one review is showing up when I click on reviews, even though I have like five (which is super awesome, so thanks so much!).**

 **Anyways, I hope to post again soon! Don't forget to review, favorite, and follow. :)**


	4. Fight

Chapter 4: Fight

* * *

"Bark needs a bath. You know how to wash a dog?"

Anne glanced down at the black Lab sitting next to her feet. He glanced up at her and wagged his tail, as if expecting a scratch behind his ears.

Winston, the Keeper of the Slicers, had already put Anne through the most disgusting morning of her life (the she knew of at least). She had gagged and almost thrown up several times, but had held it together well. Winston had told her that all the Greenies usually throw up after witnessing (and smelling) the stuff the Slicers have to put up with every day. He was impressed by her willingness to attempt at butchering a cow they had just killed. And she had done a good job of it, too.

"His little bucket and sponge are by the chicken coop. Don't really have any soap, but he doesn't get too dirty," Winston told her.

"Okay," Anne replied.

"I'll have you work with the goats when you're done. I usually have Mike do it, but Bark seems to like you more. Hose is in the Gardens, by the way. Zart can show you where it is."

Winston then went back to the Blood House and Anne retrieved the bucket and sponge from beside the chicken coop.

"Come on, Bark," she called.

The dog eagerly trot behind her, wagging his tail and panting, tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Anne approached the Gardens to see Adam working on weeding the tomato plants.

"Fancy meeting you here, Greenie," he said cheerfully.

Anne smiled slightly. "Hi, Adam. Where's a hose and bucket I could borrow? Winston wanted me to give Bark a bath."

"It's just over there, behind the cabbage patch. Need some help?" he replied.

Anne shook her head no. "Thanks, though."

"See ya later, Greenie."

Anne didn't respond, just continued back behind the cabbage patch. Bark still followed closely, as if excited to get water poured on him. Anne didn't blame the dog. It was hot out and Bark was a dark-colored dog, which meant he would naturally be warmer.

She got on her knees and filled up the bucket full of cold water. Bark circled her and the bucket enthusiastically. She smiled at the excited animal. Guess he really enjoyed baths.

As Anne was carefully sponging off the excess dirt off of Bark's dark coat, she heard laughter in the distance.

She looked up from her task to see a group of about six guys standing near the orchards, all sneaking looks in her direction.

 _Oh, great,_ she thought miserably.

She did her best to ignore their stares and focused directly on Bark. The dog had stopped wagging his tail so much and was looking at Anne, as if concerned.

"Hey, Greenie!" a voice shouted from the group of Gladers. "Feeling up to taking a trip back into the Box?"

"Yeah, we'll throw you down the shaft and see if you get cut in half like Stephen!"

"Bet she'd still be just as hot, even with her guts everywhere!"

Anne just grit her teeth, a million comebacks racing through her mind.

Bark, sensing something was wrong, licked her nose and leaned his head on her shoulder.

"Well isn't that sweet?"

Anne jumped a mile into the air, startling Bark off her shoulder.

She turned sideways to see that the group of Gladers had moved next to her. And, surprise, surprise, there at the front of the group was Max. A smirk rested on his squished face, making it seem even more disproportionate than usual.

Anne let out an annoyed sigh, her eyebrows scrunching, her freckled nose wrinkled at the sight of him. However, she said nothing and turned back to Bark with a small shake of her head.

"Don't feel like talking, Greenie?" he mocked.

Anne grit her teeth and scrubbed Bark's back, inspecting his fur even more closely for any dirt or bugs.

"Hey, Greenie, I'm talking to you," Max reiterated firmly.

Anne could feel all of the group's eyes burning holes in her back. She clenched her jaw tighter, hoping that Max and his posse would just wander away if she didn't respond.

"C'mon, Greenie, what you gotta say for yourself?" blurted one boy.

"Yeah! Shucking Greenie!"

"You going to say something, girl?"

"Spit it out, shank!"

Anne took a deep breath, hoping that her mental barricade against them would hold. She dipped her sponge into the cold water, trying to wake herself up from the bad dream that was the Glade.

Suddenly, a rough hand gripped her shoulder, forcing her to spin around. She was knocked off her knees and was suddenly sitting, her knees together and her hands holding her torso up.

Max still gripped her shoulder, his face getting closer to hers as he yelled.

"You will answer me when I talk to you, Greenie! You might be the prettiest shank I've ever seen but you've the brains of a shucking sheep! You will be worth nothing here, you hear me? NOTHING!"

Anne was frozen. She heard nothing but Max's voice, taunting her, calling her names and telling her she was not worth anything.

"Still not saying anything, Greenie?" he taunted, pushing her down to the ground and standing over her threateningly. "I know – "

"HEY!"

Max's head whipped to the side, and he stood straight, not moving from his spot above Anne.

Anne's eyes flickered around to see a fuming Adam stomping towards them. Everyone else in the garden was intrigued. Their tasks had come to a halt.

Adam stormed up and shoved Max away from Anne harshly.

"What the shuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "You know what Alby told us!"

"We're only doing what we think is right, _Adam,_ " Max exasperated. "She needs to know that she doesn't belong here! The only reason she's here is for us to repopulate! She's just a tool!"

Anne's eyes widened. She knew that some of the Gladers were sure to feel something. They were teenagers for heaven's sake. Hormones are natural in every teenager. But this?

Her eyes filled with tears. She didn't want to feel objectified. She was not just another part of supplies the people who sent them there who was to be used whenever they felt like it.

But Adam's reaction was different to hers. Instead of helping her up, like she would have expected, he punched Max square in the face. She stared on in astonishment as a loud crack sounded from Max's nose.

The boy doubled over, holding his nose and screaming Glader expletives at Adam and Anne. A couple boys in Max's group hurried over to help him, while a few others moved angrily towards Adam.

Anne's breathing quickened when she saw one of the boys Newt had introduced to her the night she arrived. It was Gally. He didn't seem that bad when she had met him, but she hadn't spent any time getting to know him.

She stood carefully as several other Track-Hoes came over and stood next to Adam, as if siding with him.

Then another fist was thrown and a full-on war broke out between Max and his friends and Adam and a few of the Track-Hoes.

Anne was afraid.

 _I'm causing so many problems,_ she thought dejectedly. _What if Max is right? What if I don't mean much here? I mean, I'm a girl in a world full of boys. They're all stronger and harder workers than I am. And what I am doing right now? I'm washing their_ dog _._

Bark growled at the sight of the fight. He growled so deeply and so loudly, that a few other Track-Hoes who weren't fighting glanced over at him.

Anne's thoughts began to race, her head filling with thoughts of not fitting in and how awful it was to live in the Glade. How was she ever supposed to adjust to this life? What job title was she supposed to fulfill? How was she going to fit into this patriarchal society?

Anne's heart pounded in her ears, each thump-thump leaving a deep ache in her chest. The world seemed to slow down as she grasped at her throat. She could barely breathe. There wasn't enough oxygen in that stupid Glade to even let her breathe correctly!

She panicked. Was she having a heart attack? Why couldn't she breathe? And why didn't anybody else feel this way?

 _I'm going crazy,_ she thought miserably. _My heart is skipping, my lungs are collapsing, and I'm insane. I am going insane!_

She had to get away from the Gladers. She couldn't stand seeing the blood and bruises she was causing Adam and the other Track-Hoes.

One of the boys from Max's group started towards her, shouting and exclaiming things that sounded like absolute nonsense to Anne.

She felt her heart rate speed up even more and her fear and anxiety spiked.

So she ran. She had no idea where she was going, nor did she enjoy the fact that she could already barely breathe, but she ran. She sprinted until she heard leaves crunching underfoot and the cry of a goat.

She felt herself skid to a stop behind the chicken coop, crouching down and holding her head in her hands.

 _Maybe if I keep skill and take deep breaths, my heart will slow down,_ she thought.

Her whole body trembled as she took in her first breath.

In…out…

In…out…

In…out…

Her heart slowed its rapid pace and her mind calmed. Anne was relieved.

She slumped down, letting her legs stretch out in front of her as she felt the chipping paint from the coop she was leaning against through her t-shirt.

Anne reached up to put a hand to her forehead, finding it covered in cold sweat.

Suddenly feeling paranoid, she glanced alertly around, scouring the area just in case a random Glader might be close by. She saw no one. Another sigh of relief.

Anne wasn't sure what had just happened to her, but had a feeling that it wasn't normal. Out of all the things she knew, which she recognized was very little, she knew that what she had just experienced was not something anybody else in the Glade had.

She sat behind the chicken coop for a while, long enough that by the time she even remotely thought about heading back, the sky had begun to go pink.

 _Sunset,_ Anne thought, _the end of the day._

The Maze doors began to clang shut, startling her. She growled at herself in frustration. She was so on edge from Max and Adam's fight and her odd breathing/heart attack from earlier, that even the slightest breeze would surprise her.

"Anne! ANNE!"

Anne, at hearing her own name, began to panic. She wasn't ready to face Adam yet. Or anybody that was involved in the scuffle, really. Her head snapped to one side, looking for a place to hide or a path to follow towards the Deadheads.

"Anne!" said a voice from beside her.

She shrieked, instinctively moving herself away from the voice.

She looked up to see that it was Clint. He knelt down next to her, scanning her face for any wounds.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned. "Max and Adam both broke a few ribs and fingers each! Jeff and I have been looking for you for hours."

Anne looked away from the Med-Jack, eyes welling up. She choked on her tears, putting a hand up to her mouth to stifle a cry.

She just wanted to forget what she had caused. She blamed herself for their injuries. She knew that she shouldn't, but, as she discovered more about herself, she found that guilt stuck with her, burying itself into her mind. It was the same with fear. Fear had a permanent home there. It was a constant now. She was sure that it had been there before the Glade, too, but had no idea why.

"Anne," Clint said softly, putting a hand on her arm.

Anne shook her head and turned away from him completely.

"Anne, Adam is fine. Yeah, the shank's gonna be in some pain, but he doesn't regret a thing. Max is klunk," he reassured her.

Anne remained silent. It wasn't because she was worried about Adam. Not that she was okay with him getting beat up for her, not at all. It was the fact that it was _her_ that caused the fight. _She_ was the reason he was hurt.

"Alby wants to talk to you, Anne," Clint told her gently. "Told him that you probably wouldn't want to, but you know Alby. Well, maybe you don't, but he can be pretty apathetic about this kind of klunk."

Anne wiped her tears away and took a deep breath. She had to do what Alby asked if she wanted to survive in the Glade without any more issues. She looked over her shoulder and nodded at Clint.

Clint nodded back, standing. He offered her a hand to help her get to her feet, but Anne declined and stood on her own. She squared her shoulders and sniffed.

"Let's go," she stated firmly.

The two started back towards the one building Anne knew that she wasn't allowed in – the Map Room.

However, as they approached, Anne asked no questions. Clint scrunched his nose at her, as if expecting her to question it, but instead, he shrugged and knocked several times on the door in a rapid pattern.

"Come on in, Clint," called a deep voice from inside.

Clint pushed on the door and there, inside was a group of around eight Gladers sitting around a table, a piece of paper and a pencil in front of each. There were boxes upon boxes of papers around the room, each with a sketch of something Anne could not make out.

Each Glader looked up from their work, thankfully not endlessly gawking at Anne, which she was thankful for.

She spotted Alby sitting next to Newt, who, like the others, also had an unfinished drawing in front of him.

"Thanks, Clint," Alby nodded gratefully at the boy. "She'll be fine here."

Clint nodded back, then gave Anne a look of sympathy. She made no expression back. The Med-jack turned and left, the door shutting with a small click behind him.

Alby glanced at Anne. "Come with me." He waved a hand towards a door at the back of the room.

Anne swallowed thickly and followed. She was not looking forward to this. What could he possibly have to say to her? What kind of pressing matters were so important to him that she couldn't just be alone, locked in her tiny room?

She felt Newt's eyes burning into the back her head as Alby closed the door behind them.

In the small room was a single, dim lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and two rickety wooden chairs, turned to face each other.

The two sat, Anne's hands in her lap. Alby leaned onto his knees, searching her face for any emotion. He leaned back into his chair, still quiet.

Anne shuffled uncomfortably under his stare.

 _What do you want?_ She thought angrily. But she kept her face neutral, keeping her focus on the floor instead of him.

"What happened out there, Anne?"

Anne's gaze flickered from the dirt floor up to his face. She shrugged.

"It wasn't my fault," she declared.

"I know," Alby told her. "I'm not blaming you."

Anne was shocked. In her thoughts, she figured that he would blame her for the whole situation. "You don't?"

Alby shook his head. "I don't put any blame on you. Max is a shank."

Anne raised her eyebrows, still surprised.

"Now, I really need to hear this from your point of view."

Anne gulped, then opened her mouth to speak. She retold the story as quickly and accurately as she could. "Winston asked me to wash Bark. I was doing what he asked when Max and a group, who I assumed were his friends, started yelling at me. Then Max got angry that I wasn't responding, so he shoved me, then screamed in my face. That's when Adam came over and punched him. Then the fight broke out. I couldn't stand to see them draw blood, so I left. I knew that I wouldn't be able to stop anything. I did what was best for me at the time."

Anne was afraid to mention her rapid heartbeat and rushing sensations. She didn't want any more special treatment from Clint or Alby. She didn't deserve it just because she was a girl.

"What were they shouting at you?" Alby inquired.

Anne's thumbs twiddled. She picked at her fingernails. She didn't want to say.

"I need to know what they said to you, Anne."

What Max and the others said replayed in her mind. _Feeling up to taking a trip back into the box? Bet she'd still be just as hot, even with her guts everywhere! The only reason she's here is for us to repopulate! She's just a tool!_

Anne grit her teeth as their words bounced around her skull.

"I know you don't want to tell me, but –,"

"They said they should throw me in the Box or down the Box shaft to see me get cut in half. Then one of them said I'd still look hot even with my guts and blood everywhere," she said bluntly. "Max specifically said he thought I was here to help repopulate."

Anne astonished herself with her boldness and volume. She was confident in her words.

But as soon as she was finished, she let the confidence in herself slip away, and what was left was the anxious, paranoid Anne that seemed to be the dominant character in her mind.

She didn't want to have to say those things out loud. Alby could tell.

His face fell. Anne could tell that he was furious.

The older boy got up and paced around. He swung his arms around, stopped at the corners of the small room and put his hands on the top of his head. Anne wondered what he was going to say.

But Alby said nothing. Not until he punched the wall, that is. And when he did, Anne jumped. The noise was loud and she was sure she had heard a crack. It was his hand. The entire wall wobbled and shook.

Alby took one look at Anne, nodded, and threw open the door. Anne swiftly got out of her chair and hurried over to the doorway to see Alby storming his way out of the Map Room.

Anne glanced over to Newt, who was in awe of it all. He rushed over to her.

"What did you say?" he wondered frantically.

Anne, puzzled, shook her head. "I told him what happened."

"For the fight?" he prompted.

Anne merely nodded.

"All Gladers get out here NOW! IMPROMPTU TRIAL, YA SHANKS!"

"That's Alby, alright," Newt muttered. "This is not going to be good."

* * *

 **Hi everybody! Sorry I haven't updated in so long! It's been pretty busy for me here at school and I haven't had much time at all to write anything.**

 **First of all, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I am so glad you are liking Anne! It's really encouraging when I read about your thoughts on my take on the Glade and how the other Gladers react to a girl. :) I really wanted to write something raw and fresh. I've seen so many other fanfics where the girl is immediately accepted into the Gladers and finds love. I wanted something so startling contrast, and I think that's what I'm accomplishing so far, so thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.**

 **Also, what do you think of this new turn of events for Anne? What do you think happened to her when she ran away from the fight? Let me know in the reviews! I love hearing all your thoughts on the chapter and what you think is going to happen next.**

 **Please don't forget to review, favorite, and follow! Thank you all so much for reading! I'll try to update a bit sooner for this next chapter. :)**


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